


Those Who Wander

by FieryScribe



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aragorn Learns Who He Is, Aragorn and Arwen first meet, F/M, Imladris, Rivendell, The Lay of Lúthien, Young Aragorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:50:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryScribe/pseuds/FieryScribe
Summary: Walking the paths of Imladris Aragorn contemplates his past, his lineage, while coming face to face with his future.





	Those Who Wander

Slowly the sun slipped lower in the sky, ever to the west, as it neared it's setting for the day; in the late afternoon rays of golden light streamed down between gently rustling, verdant, leaves lighting the peaceful forest, and it's winding paths, with hues of gold, orange and vibrant pink.  
With nearly no sound his soft leather boots tread the paths of the woods of Imladris, guiding him deeper into the embrace of the trees and further from the houses he had always known as home. 

Though he was a mortal man the only home he had ever known had been Imladris, and, up until the day before, the only name he had ever known as his own had been Estel.  
The coming of his twentieth year had seen the knowledge of his forefathers, his father, and he himself passed to him from the ever kind and wise Lord of Rivendell along with the heirlooms of his family: the emerald set ring of Barahir and the shards of Narsil. 

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, rightful chieftain of the Dúnedain and rightful King of Gondor slowly threaded his way between towering trees with the weight of all of the knowledge that had been given to him upon his shoulders; he sought the familiar tranquility of the woods he had grown up running through, the peace of the gentle running streams that traced paths through it, and the beauty of a song of hope and deep love. 

"I*nimwaloth i bain a phant, I laiss in end calen nadhras,..." {The leaves were long, the grass was green, the hemlock-umbels tall and fair,} 

His left hand, now bearing the silver ring of his ancestor, ran lightly over the smooth bark of a birch tree as he stepped to the right of it all the while continuing to softly sing The Lay of Lúthien, of she that gave her immortality for the love of a mortal man.

"A egennir galad vin lant en elin vi uialthiliol Tinúviel i lilthas ias na lind o *simp dholen a brand, a vi finnil dîn glîn ennas, a vi chammad dîn míriol." {And in the glade a light was seen of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there to music of a pipe unseen, and light of stars was in her hair, and in her raiment glimmering.} 

The sun dipped further westward taking with it the hues of gold and leaving deep yet vibrant orange and brilliant pink in it's setting wake. The song that easily fell from his lips was one he had sung times uncounted and while it had always stirred his mind to the imagined image of Lúthien Tinúviel it had never conjured her likeness before his eyes; there in the lighted glade before him stood a likeness more vivid than any his mind had conjured before. So enraptured was he that at the sight before him that he stopped mid-stride and simply watched the gentle breeze through the trees lift the trailing ends of her ebony hair. So lost was he in the sight of her that he called to her with the fear that if he did not she might simply dissolve before him back into waking dreams of his mind; his call was not wholly his own for it had rung out before by Beren as he had come upon the Lady Lúthien beneath the boughs of the trees of Doriath  
"Tinúviel! Tinúviel!"

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a compliment to the story of Arwen and Aragorn in the appendices. 
> 
> The translation for the Lay of Lúthien is entirely by David Salo for the LOTR movies.


End file.
